First of two parts. 

Investing the President’s Day weekend in Temecula three months ago is turning into one of the brilliant unintentional decisions of a fortunate life.

With 4½ days out of the office crooking a finger at you, what would a mature person choose:

Temecula?

Or a less glamourous holiday destination?

The unanimous vote obviated need for debate.

However, cruising a dark, sparsely marked freeway halfway between Los Angeles and San Diego midway through a Thursday evening became an unplanned gamble. The paucity of signage almost cost Temecula new tourists.

The next day we quickly became convinced Exploring Old Town Temecula, an irresistible 134-year-old slice of the community, would be a bombshell selection for a family vacation this summer.

Our first full day of treasure searching ended early. At mid-day, following a circular driving pattern, we found Chabad of Temecula in the bosom of downtown. Eventually.

A presumably carefully planned Shabbat arrived shortly after 5 o’clock on this sunny February day.

For two weeks, young Rabbi Yonasan Abrams and I had been mapping a Shabbat schedule in the center of a Jewish desert. We were confident our strategy was leakproof.

We would have Shabbat dinner at the family home of Rabbi Yonasan and Natanya Abrams, along with their three playful daughters, Chana, Moussia and Frumie, all under 5 years old, and a new baby due any edition. Born days later, his name would turn out to be Menachem Mendel.

Formally, Shabbat for us would begin with a nearly two-mile walk from our hotel to the Abramses.

No longer were we strangers to the enchanting young family. We had been by the busy Abrams home at the noon hour while searching out the Chabad synagogue where we would participate in Shabbat morning services.

What could go wrong?

Playtime was before, during and after the meal, which not only illumined our Shabbat but made return visits mandatory.

Rabbi Abrams remarked that when tourists spend Shabbat in Temecula, commonly he reminds them at the dinner table of the hour when Shabbat morning services start. “We will see you then,” the visitors always vow. They never are seen again.

“This Shabbat will be different,” I told Rabbi Abrams. “We will be there early.”

It was different –only not in the way I had envisioned.

(To be continued)